~Six Years Later~

"Mr. Khan?"

Yazaan looked up as his assistant, Moeen, knocked on the open glass door to his office and called out. He straightened his back, hearing the satisfying crack of his neck. He'd been working non-stop in the same position for about four hours now, going over the monthly reports. Now that he'd raised his head, he realized he needed a coffee.

"Hm?"

"Mr. Sheikh is calling you in his office in five minutes."

He nodded and Moeen went back to his desk. Feroz Sheikh, a forty-eight years old stout man with greying hair and a demanding aura, was the CEO of the company and a good friend of his. At least he liked to think so. He treated Yazaan like his younger brother. But he was really strict about the work. He kept his employees on their toes while maintaining a friendly atmosphere.

He stood up and grabbed a single thin file that was to be presented to the CEO. Taking the lift, he went to the two floors up, the top floor where the offices for high officials were located, the largest space occupied by the CEO.

He knocked on the opaque door once and entered when he was allowed inside. That was one of the major adjustments he'd had to make in the past few years, asking for permission and realizing that he was not the one giving the orders now. Though he had raised up in the heirarchy pretty quick and now worked as Cheif Marketing Manager of the company, it still sometimes irked him that he had to report to the COO and CEO and other board members of the company.

"Assalamualaikum, Mr. Sheikh. Mr. Rana."

"WaAlaikumAssalam, Yazaan. Come sit down."

Feroz Sheikh was accompanied by Akbar Ali Rana, the COO of the company. He was a quiet, reserved man, the same age as Yazaan and extremely strict on rules. But he couldn't complain, Yazaan was pretty much the same. And for that, he thought they got along pretty well. Both held mutual respect for each others' work and nature.

Yazaan sat opposite to Feroz and next to Akbar, opening the button on his suit jacket in the process.

"Coffee?"

"Yes, please." He almost sighed in relief at the offer of his boss. Although it was only one in the afternoon right now, he was pretty knackered. He placed the file in front of Feroz, leaning back in his chair, while Mr. Sheikh ordered three coffees. "You called for me, Mr. Sheikh."

"Yes, i have a grave news to tell you."

He raised his eyebrow in question (something that his wife so not subtly always pointed out how sexy and annoying it was at the same time).

"Mr. Rana is resigning today. He would no longer be working with us."

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise, his head turning to Akbar, seeking confirmation. Akbar nodded, affirming the news.

"May i ask why? He has used his remarkable talents to add to the success of company countless times. You're a vital member of this company. Why are you leaving us?"

"It's high time i took over my father's business. Now that i know i have potential more than just the status of son of a rich businessman, and have proven it to myself and everyone else that i deserve the position, i'm reclaiming what is mine." Akbar explained.

Yazaan knew little details of why Akbar was working under someone else when he was rightful heir to his father's business. But he wasn't the one to pry into others' personal life (at least now, few years ago, he'd had no such reservation.)

He didn't know what to reply. Best of luck? Congratulations?

He simply nodded and Sheikh spoke again.

"Of course you deserve everything. But now the question is. Who's going to be the COO?"

"I'm sure you have someone already in mind", Yazaan said. There were several others who deserved that position.

"Rana, what do you think?"

"I think the question in mind is who's going to be the Cheif Marketing Manager", Akbar said, looking at Yazaan with a smile, confirming his implication.

"What do you think, Yazaan?"

"I don't think i'm ready to take such a big responsibility. There are many more who have been working hard in this company for far longer than i have been. They deserve this position more than i do. I'm quite content with where i am."

Akbar smiled and turned to Sheikh. "Just because of this, i'd say our decision is perfect."

"I'd say so too. The number of years doesn't ensure success. Your determination and passion does. The thirst you have to improve every single second has proved to everyone that no one else deserves this spot more than you."

"I. . . I'm honored." He didn't know what else to say.

"Well, let me be the first to congratulate you, Mr. Khan", Akbar stood up, Yazaan following his lead, and shook his hand.

"Thank you."

Feroz stood up to hug him, patting him on the back. "Do us proud, brother."

When he left the room, he was still stunned at what had happened. He had become the COO of the company. That was as far as anyone could go in business hierarchy without owning the company. And he'd achieved that in a span of just six years.

He didn't know what to do or how to feel. The first thing he wanted to do was thank his Lord and then call his wife to cry out , Thank you for believing in me.

On reaching his room, he locked the door and drew the blinds, concealing himself from the view of everyone. Then he went to the washroom, did ablution, spread a prayer mat on the office floor and prayed two nafl of shukrana.

When he went into prostration, he forgot everything. The only thing he could think was that had Allah not had mercy on him, he would've been burning in the same hell he had chosen to sink deep into. Had his path not crossed with the fearless doctor, he would have never known what it is like to work hard for every success and the bliss one gets after climbing that step. The number of blessings he wanted to thank his Lord for couldn't be summed up in this lifetime.

He didn't realize he'd been crying until he rubbed his hands on his damp cheeks after getting up. He put the prayer mat away and grabbed his phone. His fingers couldn't move any faster as he dialed his wife's number, her cheerful smile covering his screen.

"Assalamualaikum, Khan Sahab. How come you remembered me while being with your second wife?" She was in her scrubs, looking ragged but not in a hurry. She'd obviously completed a surgery.

"WaAlaikumAssalam. Guess what?" His voice was gruff but the big smile on his face told her it couldn't be something bad.

Still she got nervous. "What?"

"I got promoted to the COO of the company!"

He loved the pleasant shock on her face. "MashaAllah! Congratulations, Yazaan! I'm so proud of you!"

"You know i love you, right? And this wouldn't have been possible if you hadn't believed in me."

Her eyes got moist and as much as she tried to hide that fact, she couldn't. This was her reaction every time he climbed up one more step.

He knew what she wished right now, for he wished the exact same thing. For both of them to be at home and celebrate it together.

"I love you too. More than i ever thought i was capable of. And no. This is all on you."

"When are you going home?"

"I'll just leave in a few. You?"

"Around seven."

"Okay." She was distracted for a moment as she listened to an intern. She nodded at the young intern and looked back into the camera, "Khan Sahab, i have to go. I'll meet you at home. You have to tell me everything! Allah hafiz."

He smiled. "I wouldn't dare leaving out a single detail. Allah hafiz."

And the line went dead. And he couldn't be more impatient for the clock to move faster.

•~•

Layeba was proud at the chocolate cake she had made. It looked straight out of a bakery. No, that was an exaggeration because the frosting she'd tried to curl was now blended with the overall chocolate covering and the 'congratulations' was all smeared. But it was okay, it was delicious and that was all that mattered.

She'd made this cake to celebrate Yazaan's success. She could've simply ordered but where's the fun in that? Sure, her husband didn't like chocolate and would probably just eat a bite of it, but then he wasn't a fan of anything sweet, so it was more for herself anyway.

"Layeba! Where are you?"

She smiled as she heard Yazaan's voice boom in the house. She carefully placed the cake on the table and instructed the little troublemaker, "Don't touch it, okay? We'll cut it together."

With that, she went outside and was greeted with the sight of her mother hugging Yazaan and congratulating him, blessing as many prayers on him as was motherly possible.

"Mabrook, Khan Sahab. Mabrook!" She exclaimed with a toothy smile on her face.

Yazaan returned her smile.

"MashaAllah, MashaAllah mere bachey. May Allah grant you with even more success. Ameen."

Fast footsteps climbed down the stairs and the high-pitched voice of his sister reached his ears, "We're also something of yours, Lala. Yet the only person you remember is Layeba bhabhi. Tch, tch, tch." She shook her head good-naturedly and hugged her brother tightly. "Congratulations, Lala. I'm so proud of you."

"Ozhan? I too have a relation with you. Yet the only person you call on arriving is Abeerah. Why is that?" Layeba turned towards Ozhan who had joined them too.

"Why do i always get stuck in the middle of it?"

"Because you happen to be the quiet one, brother!"

"No, you just like bullying me, Bhabhi." Ozhan hugged his brother as well and congratulated him, feeling far more emotional than he should be. His brother was finally getting what he deserved.

"Where are Faiz and Aahil?" Yazaan asked, looking around for the two boys. Layeba called the two but as already expected, eleven year old Faiz, came skipping around the hall, his shirt covered in paint.

"Mamu!" And not caring about his suit, jumped on him. "Mamu, i've made something for you. But it's too heavy for me to carry. Come with me." And Faiz dragged him to his room, which was a mess, where paints, brushes and all his other art supplies were scattered. One precautionary measure Layeba was glad about was that he'd spread a plastic sheet on the floor, so at least the floor wouldn't have to be scrubbed and she wouldn't have to listen to the complains of the maids.

But the star of the room was a portrait canvas Faiz was working on. A faceless man in blue suit was painted in the middle with Mr. Chief Operating Officer written at the bottom in cursive and 'Congratulations Mamu' written in block writing on top. Granted it was sloppy, but for a eleven-year old, it was really good.

And it made Yazaan's heart swell with happiness. He hugged Faiz tightly and kissed the top of his head. Layeba got tears in her eyes remembering the tragic day they had gotten Faiz back.

Four years back, Ozhan had gotten a phone call from a wounded Zulfiqar, which had snatched the ground from beneath their feet. The Shah's had attacked their haweli, getting revenge on all the past mistakes of Khans and finishing the fight altogether. They had spared no one, took pity on no one. Even the children.

Zulfiqar and his men weren't present there except for one who kept the Khan clan in his sight. By the time Zulfiqar was informed and they'd reached to salvage the battle, it had already been lost. They'd been severely outnumbered and had barely managed to run in their cars. Zulfiqar had gotten a severe gunshot in his abdomen and had died shortly after calling Ozhan. Something Ozhan felt was on him because as a favor to him was only Zulfiqar there.

As for Faiz, history had repeated itself. The only difference was that he had just been seven at the time and couldn't do anything to the murderers. Faiz had been on a school trip for three days. And when he'd returned with an elderly driver, he was greeted with the sight of his butchered family. He hadn't seen his mother or father, but he had seen Bi Jaan. And the sight gave him nightmares still.

The driver had taken him away with him to his small cottage and kept him safe till Yazaan had reached there. Respecting the final wish of their dead leader, Zulfiqar's men helped them clean the house and bury them all.

And they'd taken Faiz with them to Lahore despite his difficult protests.

Layeba couldn't say they'd moved on from the tragic event, was anyone even capable of doing so? No matter how they felt about them, they were all family to Ozhan, Yazaan and Abeerah. Ozhan's half-sister was the one who'd died leaving Faiz an orphan. But they were trying to focus on their lives, making happy memories together to overpower the bad. It wasn't easy, Faiz was traumatized and no one really knew what to do but they didn't leave him be. They held him tightly in their arms even when he wanted to get away. They made him believe that there were people who loved him and who will never leave him.

And with time, they succeeded. Faiz had found his interest and passion in art, and that's what they provided him with.

Justice had been served to the Shah clan as well, no matter how unsatisfying it was for Yazaan and his family. A year after they'd massacred the Khan name, military had cleaned the area of filth, restoring peace for the people there.

Layeba wiped her tears and smiled as Yazaan kissed his nephew and ruffled his hair. "Thank you for this, beta. I love you."

"I love you too mamu. And you mami. And Ozi Mamu. And Beerah. And Shiza Nano. I love you all."

"We all love you too, meri jaan." Abeerah hugged her nephew as well.

"Where is Aahil, Doctor?"

"He's in the kitchen." Yazaan nodded. Layeba gasped at the realization. "I left him in the kitchen. My cake!"

And she sprinted to the kitchen. And slapped her foreheadhead on seeing her son.

Aahil Yazaan Khan just shared the looks with his father. Everything else, he resembled his mother. And there was no one more worried about that than the mother herself, much to Yazaan's amusement.

He was four years old and the mischievous nature of his was something Shiza confirmed was exactly like Layeba's. And if that was really true, Layeba was doomed. She didn't really think she could handle her own self if left alone for a few days, how was she supposed to raise a child who was probably going to blow up firecrackers in her closet in a few years?

Either she would go insane, or they both would be the reason of Yazaan's hair being inspired from Ali Azmat's hairstyle. She often shivered at the thought.

Aahil had decided that he was too impatient to wait for his parents to cut the cake and had taken a pretty big chunk of it from the side with his bare hands and was currently sitting on the floor, devouring the chocolate cake and making his clothes have more than a taste of it too.

"Papa!" Aahil squealed and his father grabbed him in his arms. His suit was already soiled anyway.

"I swear, if he comes even close to becoming a chocolate addict like you, i'm going to ban everything sweet in this house."

Layeba raised her eyebrows and challenged him with a smile. "I'd like to see you try. Aahil, what have you done? I told you we'll cut the cake with Papa together."

"But you guys weren't coming and i wanted to eat the cake", he pouted.

"Guess we can skip the formalities then." Layeba cut a small piece from the good side and put in Yazaan's mouth. "Congratulations, Yazaan Ibrahim Khan."

"Thank you, Doctor Layeba Hussein."

•~•

Someone knocked on her door just as she put on her black heels. She looked at herself in the mirror and was pleased with her appearance. She was wearing a royal blue plain anarkali frock with gold border and chaffon duppatta set on her shoulder. Her hair fell down in soft curls against her back and her makeup was minimal. Gold hoops in her ears and rings in her fingers were the only jewelry she wore.

She opened the door to a smiling Layeba. "You look stunning, love."

"Thank you, bhabi." She gave Layeba a relieved smile.

"Well, hurry up. I was asked to kick you out of the house at exact seven thirty. Come on."

She put her black purse on her shoulder and put her phone inside it.

"Bhabhi, where is Ozhan taking me? What's the surprise?"

"I'd say my lips are sealed but i don't really know. Your brother knows and he wouldn't tell me. I'll bug him after you go."

She wondered why she didn't believe Layeba on this. Oh yes, because her husband never kept anything from his sister.

She had come home to a bouquet of white roses and box containing her dress with a note saying, 'be ready by seven thirty.' Now that she was, there was still no sign of her husband.

She followed Layeba to the main door where her brother stood wearing a brown three piece. "You look really pretty, chanda."

"Thank you, Lala."

"Come on. Let's go." He offered her his arm and she hooked hers in it. They walked to the car where Yazaan opened the door for her and she sat in the passenger seat. Yazaan got in as well and started driving.

"So, where are we going, Lala? I know that you know."

"I know that you know that i know because my wife told you that i know. But my lips are sealed."

"It's been three hours! What is the surprise?"

Yazaan imitated the gesture of zipping his lips, his smile teasing her.

"Fine. Don't tell."

They drove in silence for five minutes before Yazaan stopped the car. "This is where i leave you. Bye bye."

"What? No! I'm not getting off here all alone. It's the middle of nowhere!" That was far from the truth. But she was allowed to exaggerate.

A knock on the window made her look outside and finally! There stood her husband, looking classy in a blue tuxedo. "Now can you get out? I have somewhere to be." Yazaan pushed her out in a joking manner.

Ozhan saluted his brother through the window and mouthed, thanks, lala. Yazaan drove away and Abeerah fully looked at her husband. He was looking at her with the same love and adoration they shared six years ago, the intensity of it increased a thousand times.

"You look beautiful", he breathed out. He always fell short of adjectives whenever he wanted to compliment her because his mind ceased to function every time. But it was okay, they didn't need words to voice out the love they felt for each other.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"These. . .are for you," he gave her a big bouquet of red roses this time, their fragrance teasing her senses. She kept her nose buried in them for a few seconds, letting the smell soothe her.

"They're lovely. Thank you."

"It's a pleasure." He kept looking into her eyes, the color of forest reminding him of the place they'd grown up in, how they all used to play in the woods for hours with no worry in the world. He used to wish to go back in those days but now, having had what he had, he wouldn't trade it for anything in the universe. "I could look into your eyes for days and never get tired. But i need them closed for now. So," he held up a black piece of cloth. "May i?"

He tied it around her eyes and made her carefully sit in the car, making sure to adjust her dress so it doesn't get stuck in the door. He started driving. They were in some kind of a new society, most of the houses of which were under construction and they too were farther apart from one another.

"Where are we going, Ozhan?"

Abeerah asked excitedly for the umpteenth time that night.

"It's a surprise, Love. Wait. Good things come to those who wait." He kissed the back of her hand and placed their entwined hands back on his lap.

"Can i atleast take this blindfold off? Please. It's already dark. I won't be able to see anything anyway."

"I just put it on you and you're restless already? Wait. Just a few minutes now."

Ozhan honked, slowing down the car and she heard a gate opening. A few seconds and the car stopped. Ozhan helped her out and moved her so that her back was against his front.

With his lips dangerously close to her ear, he whispered, "Welcome home, Jaanan." And he removed her blindfold.

She blinked a few times, getting accustomed to the brightly lit place. In front of her was a gorgeous medium-sized two storey house in the colors of grey and white. It was a contemporary style house. The house was accentuated and brightly lit with fairy lights as if awaiting the presence of a new bride. To add to the cheesy setting, rose petals hid the hid the marble floor to the door.

"Ozhan?" She turned to look at him. "Where are we?" She didn't want to give voice to the thoughts she was having in case she was wrong.

"We're in the home where we're going to build a family together." He smiled down at her, albeit a bit nervously because he wasn't sure if she would like it or not. After all, he'd kept everything from her for months now.

She looked at the house and back at him. At the house and at him. Back and forth. "This- Ozhan? This is. . .our house?" He nodded. "Yours and mine, right? Mine and yours."

"Yes." He felt his tension slowly slipping away with the building excitement he could sense in her.

"We're going to live here? In this house."

"Yes!"

"And you bought it. For me. For - for us. For our family?"

"Yes!"

"This is Mr. & Mrs. Ozhan Khan's home from now on?"

"YES!"

She leapt up on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him fervently. Whyever did he even have the tiniest of doubts in his mind that she wouldn't like it? She broke away and laughed, looking back at their house, tears of joy filling her eyes.

"I love you. I love you so much!" She hugged him tightly.

"I love you. I love you so goddamn much!"

She chuckled unbelievably again. "This is our home."

"Shall we go inside?"

She bobbed her head up and down, wiping the corners of her eyes carefully. Before she had any warning, she was in the air, safely in his arms as he stepped over the porch.

The first thing that hit her strongly was the scent of vanilla and roses that was heavy in the air. Then she noticed the big candles that lit the entire house, the flames dancing in the welcome of the house owners.

She could see that the house was well furnished but she wasn't given enough time to explore as Ozhan carried her effortlessly up the stairs towards the master bedroom. It was in the neutral shades of brown, beige, and coffee. A queen-sized bed with side tables having lamps on them, an in-built cupboard against an entire wall beside the door, beige walls, false-wood floors, and mahogany vanity were all she noticed in a glimpse before Ozhan made her sit on the bed, grabbed her hands, and sat on his knees on the floor.

"I think the house exploration can wait, don't you think?"

He was about to kiss her when she said, "Wait!"

She was as disappointed as the readers or Ozhan but she had something to tell him too.

"I have a surprise for you too. I wanted to tell you at the perfect moment but none can ever be better than this one."

He raised his brows as he sat back on the floor and she opened her purse. She clicked on her phone for a few never-ending seconds and then looked at him with a huge smile on her face.

"What?"

"Close your eyes!"

"Nope. Nuh-uh. Tell me."

"Double standards. Anyway! Here!" She handed him the phone and he looked at the screen.

He frowned. He looked back at her. "Am i supposed to know what this black and grey screen means?"

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing at him. "I'll tell our to-be child that his father didn't recognize him. Or her."

It was his turn to be spellbound that night. "You-" he swallowed. "You're not joking, right?"

She shook her head.

He was glad that he was already sitting because he was sure his legs wouldn't support him. He covered his mouth with his fist, his eyes fixed on the phone.

He was going to be a father. There was going to be a life associated with his name. A pure soul was going to be born into this world, free of all the filth of his past. He was going to have a child!

He felt soft fingers on his cheeks and realized that he was crying. Meeting Abeerah's eyes, he took in a deep breath and let the reality of everything sink in.

"Congratulations, daddy-to-be." Abeerah had whispered, fearing that even the tiniest of noise would ruin this pure moment.

He sniffed and rubbed his face, putting her phone on the bed. Then he cupped her face and rested his forehead against hers. "Congratulations, mommy-to-be."

He lowered himself to her belly's level and kissed it through the fabric. "I already love you more than anything in this world." He looked up at her teary face. "Not more than your mommy though. There's no one more precious to me than her."

He kissed her, tasting the salty tears on her lips. But this was the first time he didn't hate them. This was the first time he didn't try to stop them or wipe them. He let them be, letting them flow and be happy on the news of their unborn child.

"I love you, Abeerah Ozhan Khan."

"I love you, Ozhan Saleem Khan."

•~•

"Mamu!"

Nine year old Aahil furiously ran to Ozhan who was trying stay on his feet as his five year old son, Daud, hid behind his legs. He glared at Daud who was smiling sheepishly at his elder brother, clearly guilty of the mess his mischief had resulted in.

"What happened, Aahil? What did he do now?" Abeerah put her hands on his shoulders, trying to stop him from lunging at her son.

"Phupho! He messed up Maroo's birthday cake!"

Mawra was Abeerah and Ozhan's daughter who was the princess of this family at only two years of age.

"Daud, did you spoil the cake Tayi Ammi had baked for princess?" Ozhan sternly asked his son.

"But Dad, it was chocolate! I couldn't help myself." Daud gave an excuse that only a nephew of Layeba Hussein could give.

"But Mamu! This is not fair! I too wanted to eat it. But did i? No! Because we had all prepared it for Maroo. But now it's all ruined."

"It's okay, chote. Maroo is yet little. She doesn't care if it's round or not, as long as she knows it's something sweet." Faiz was the one Aahil was most attached to and he listened to everything his big brother said.

"But lala-"

"Aahil! Let it go. Take your brother's hand and go play. Don't fight anymore." Opposite to the common notion, Layeba was the strict parent to their son, whereas Yazaan rarely ever said anything to any of the sons. In fact, Yazaan spoilt their sons outrageously.

He huffed and pouted for a bit, showing puppy eyes to his Mamuu so that he may take his side. And his favorite uncle would've, if Layeba hadn't glared at him and warned him not to let the argument grow. "Hey buddy. Let's go play cricket outside. Come on!" And he took him, Daud and Faiz out in the lawn, distracting him from the crime and saving his little son.

After a little while, in the night, when they were all tired, they came inside and ate the cake that was meant for Mawra's birthday but the little princess was too deep in her sweet dreams that she didn't care about it.

Everyone was chatting happily over a cup of tea when the elders focused on what Faiz was confusing Aahil about.

"Hey dude, why do you call Ozhan Mamu, your Mamu?"

Aahil furrowed his brows and looked at Faiz as if he had gone nuts. "Because he's my mamu, lala."

"But he's Yazaan Mamu's younger cousin, so isn't he your chachu?" Faiz was controlling his smile and trying hard to look serious.

"But Mama says Ozhan mamu is her brother." Faiz was starting to get the desired effect. Aahil now looked deep in thought.

"So why don't you call Beerah, mami? She's Ozhan mamu's wife."

"But. . .he's papa's sister. And papa's sister is called phupho."

"But Mamu's wife is called Mami."

"But she's papa's sister. So i call her phupho! And he's mama's brother, so i call him mamu!" Just when Aahil thought he had the relations figured out, Faiz asked him.

"Then if Ozhan mamu is Layeba mami's brother, why doesn't Daud call her Phupho? Why does he call her Tayi Ammi?"

"Faiz, for goodness sake! My son wouldn't have any brain cells left if you continue like this!" Layeba stopped Faiz, everyone laughing hard at the conversation.

"This is all your fault, doctor." Yazaan put the blame of this confusion on Layeba, remembering the day they had brought him home. . .

"I'll hold him first! I'm his only phupho!"

Abeerah had spread out her arms to carry the little red bundle of joy who was currently sleeping in his father's arms.

"Well, i'm his only chachu! I should get to hold him first!"

"Abeerah will hold him first!" Layeba decided for both of them. Abeerah squealed as she took him from Yazaan while Ozhan complained.

"Bhabhi! I thought at least you loved your brother more than you love Abeerah!"

"I do! But you don't even know how my son is related to you!"

"Oh no! Not this again, Doctor!" Yazaan groaned.

"And why not? Our son should have a Mamu!"

Ozhan understood what Layeba meant then. "I agree. I'm definitely Bhabhi's brother. He'll call me mamu!"

Yazaan ignored Ozhan and said, "What about a Chachu then? Shouldn't he have one?"

"Oh come on! He can call your friends chachu! And then he can have many of those. But he'll only ever have a chance of having one Mamu!"

"What about Hassaan, huh?" He couldn't believe they were arguing over what their son would call Ozhan but apparently they were. Layeba had called dibs on him being her brother first.

"He's obviously going to be Khaloo, since Sanem is Khala!"

"But-"

"Oh please Khan! Abeerah wants to be called a phupho and you want him to call Ozhan chachu! You know how confused he's gonna get, right?"

And that's how it was settled.

Obviously Daud hadn't been in the equation then, so they hadn't thought of the possibility of him calling Layeba something was going to complicate the simplest of relations. And their minds weren't mature enough to understand the Desi family relations' names.

"Tayi Ammi?" Daud came paddling from the study to where Layeba was with a photo frame in his hands.

"Yes, meri jaan?"

He put the frame in her lap and asked, "who is this?"

Smiling, she looked down at the photo and her smile disappeared. Everyone silenced noticing Layeba's sudden change of demeanor. Shiza and Yazaan who were sitting on either side of her looked the source of her distress and immediately understood the reaction.

"Where did you find it?"

"In your drawer."

She swallowed. Yazaan rubbed her back, showing her his support and as usual, a silent apology.

"He was my brother. Arsalan Hussein."

Shiza excused herself after patting her daughter on the shoulder and everyone let her have her space. A woman could be strong for so long. A mother could spew hatred on his son for so long. The wife of a martyr could continue to be proud for so long. Sometimes, she just wanted a few moments to herself where she could mourn the death of her baby boy. Where she tried to overlook his sins and mistakes, and love the memory of him just as she did when she didn't know any of the crimes.

Layeba was in awe of her mother. She could only ever hope to be as strong as her mother.

"Where is he?" Daud questioned again. And she didn't want to answer him.

"Daud! It's enough. It's time for you to go to sleep!" Ozhan scolded his son, unintentionally harsh. Abeerah put a hand on his arm to calm him. It wasn't the child's fault.

Layeba took in a shaky breath. "Allah Almighty called him back to Himself."

"But why?"

Her mouth felt dry and she ran her tongue over her lips, clutching the frame so tight that it hurt.

"He. . .he made some mistakes. He hurt people."

Before he could ask something more, Abeerah said, "Come on, young man! Let's go to sleep." She picked up Daud in her arms, quietening anymore questions he might've had.

"Excuse me." Layeba stood up and all but ran to her room upstairs. Yazaan followed her, saying to Abeerah, "please put Aahil to sleep."

"Don't worry, Lala. Take care of bhabhi."

When he entered the room, his wife was laying on the bed, curled into a fetal position, buried inside the covers. Without a single word, he knew what his wife needed. He laid behind her and pulled her to himself, her back touching his chest. She raised her head a bit and he slid one arm under it, hugging her close with the other.

A drop fell on his arm and he held her even closer, letting her cry her heart out while comforting her with his presence, peppering her temple with kisses.

Her breathing evened out after a while and he relaxed. He read some prayers in his heart and blew them on her, praying to his Lord to give her eternal peace. Then he slept too.

•~•

The blood was choking him. But it wasn't his own. Seeing Layeba lying in the pool of blood, her lifeless eyes staring back at him, that was what was making it difficult for him to breathe. He looked around in pure anger, trying to find the one who had hurt her. But there was no one around.

A maniacal laughter echoed in the background and he tried to look for its source. Until he it grew louder and he realized who it belonged to. It was his own. His hand felt heavy and he looked down. A gun was weighing his bloodied hand down.

He dropped it with a gasp and held up his hands, the crimson sticky liquid reminding him the crimes he had done. The unrecognizable setting spun around him, making him dizzy and he fell on his knees beside Layeba where she was trying to reach him, her arm drawn out towards him.

He crawled the distance between them until his knees started bleeding but no matter what, his fingertips didn't brush the soft skin of her cheek he was so desperately trying to reach.

"Please. . ." A plea left his lips to whoever might be listening but no one answered. Layeba's hand dropped to the ground and her chest fell, only to never rise again. His hit his forehead on the ground guiltily, screaming and crying to not do this to her. Anything but this, but no one took mercy on him.

Multiple cries began to deafen him, the cries he couldn't give a face to but knew all too well that they belonged to everyone he had wronged in the past. And in those, one voice was clearer than anything,

"You're a monster, Yazaan Ibrahim Khan!"  "Mar jao jaa kar!" "Allah gaarat kare tumhein!"

"No. No. Please. . . No! Forgive me. Please. . . No. . ."

"No!"

"Yazaan, wake up. Please." Layeba knew from experience that touching him when he was having these nightmares ended up being hurtful for her. So she was softly calling out to him, sitting up against the headrest, being careful not to let panic waft in her tone, so as not to startle him any more.

"Yazaan, everything's okay. Please wake up. . . Yazaan, it's okay."

His trembling stopped as his eyes snapped open and immediately searched for Layeba, his breathing heavy. Without giving her a warning, he hugged her tight, burying his head in her neck and letting her frangrance reassure him that everything was indeed fine.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please, i'm sorry. Don't leave me. Forgive me. Please, i'm sorry."

She started carressing his face with one hand and lightly played with the hair on the back of his head while murmuring soft reassurances.

"Everything's okay, Yazaan. You're fine. I'm not going anywhere. It was just a dream. It's okay. Don't worry. Everything's fine. I love you."

She placed a kiss on his forehead. She forced the tears to not fall, refusing to remember any bad memories. It wasn't like everything was golden in their lives now that they'd defeated the past. There were days where everything was dull. They wouldn't feel like doing anything, too haunted by the unpleasant reminiscences. There were days like these when Yazaan would wake up, drenched in his own sweat, apologizing profusely, too scared of whatever came before him in his sleep.

There were days when she would just miss her brother so much that despite the loathing she held in her heart for him, she would take out his old things which she so wanted to burn but couldn't, and cry her heart out.

She liked to think that all their wounds had healed. But no, she was wishful to think so. Some were bloody adamant. They teased them by showing progress, but they ripped again, letting the painful memories flow again. And then there were scars of the ones that had healed. They just didn't fade.

But in the end, she had faith that they will all be alright, that they will all be strong. Because they had each other. So what if the scars didn't fade? They would cover them up with colorful tattoos of fond moments, the ones which would remind them of the beautiful times their Lord had blessed them with after all the hardships. So what if the wounds kept reopening? They would patch them back up with the love they shared. Because their love was stronger than everything.

And their faith in their Allah? Even more so.

•~•

Assalamualaikum!

How are you all?💖💖💖

This is officially and finally the end. Yaayyyyy!!!🎊 What? No? Yes, i'll miss them too. But all good things must come to an end.  But they live in our hearts forever. Idk about you but these characters will certainly occupy my heart for a very very long time, if not forever.🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️

Yes, i know what you're all thinking about. I just couldn't write all happy scenes in the epilogue as well, could i? I had to write some tragedy! Some? Wrong word. Uhhmmm, anyway, the scenes were just screaming at me to write them and here they are!

Did you guys enjoy it? I hope you did.

Fun fact, i was going to make the plot of Faiz's tragedy a ground for a sequel. But since i didn't have any more ideas, i just added it in the epilogue because i couldn't forget the first child i introduced in this story. And no matter how cruel you deem me as, i couldn't write his fate the same as all the other Khans.💔🥺

I really hope you loved the progress the characters made in the epilogue. Yazaan gained more success. Ozhan too. And he bought a HOUSE with his own money! If i had showed more time lapse, Layeba would've ended up as the medical director of the hospital. But if you're wondering, that's where she'll end up.

Yazaan and Layeba had one biological son, Aahil and one adopted, Faiz, though he still called them Mamu and Mami. While Ozhan and Abeerah had two kids, Daud and Mawra.🥰💕💕

Knowing myself and how much i love these characters, they'll probably make an appearance in the upcoming books of mine. So i hope y'all are not bored with them yet🤗🤗😁😁

Anyhooooo! That's all. Stay tuned for future books inshaAllah. I'm working on a few. But one tragic story will probably make it to my profile first.

So please follow me so that you'll know when that happens.

Please vote ⭐ comment 🖋️ share and follow. I already said that, hehe.

That's it. Thank you all so much for reading it through. Allah hafiz.

Lots of love ❤️❤️❤️
Javeria Naeem.